


but if you kissed me now,

by goldenasteri



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Christmas, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Drunk Keith (Voltron), Fluff and Angst, Gay Keith (Voltron), HI CARLY... ILYSM, Holidays, IVE NEVER WRITTEN KLANCE IN MY LIFE, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Mentions of Other Voltron Paladins, Merry Christmas Bitches, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith/Lance (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Post S8, Post-Canon Fix-It, alcohol??, anyways kick, fuck het lives, idk what the fuck these tags r, kickwarriors ss 2k18, kinda fuck canon lives but also this is my city now, klance, klangst, klangst?? un poquito, mentions of allurance, some swearing ig, why the FUCK did they make lance a farmer.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 20:38:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17168993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenasteri/pseuds/goldenasteri
Summary: its christmas, and keith gets drunk (real drunk) and reminisces on old times.until he gets a surprise visitor, and hes stone cold sober, yet drunker than before.a post canon kl christmas oneshot for a secret santa exchange. love u calorie <3





	but if you kissed me now,

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is my first time writing kl so i hope its not too awful.  
> of course, the title is from last christmas by wham!, the most valid christmas song. i highly recommend listening to it while you read.  
> lance's mamá's spanish is based on the way my best friends mom speaks to her. when she is talking in english, small spanish words slip over. if someone feels this is incorrect in any way, please let me know! though i am writing from experience, it is not actually my own family and i am not latinx in any way- so full disclosure.  
> this fic based on a concept that floated around in my head a lot. i really wasnt too happy with s8 at all (aka. its the only vld season i didnt watch all the way through) so i decided kl was endgame post canon. hope you guys like it!  
> all in all, this is for carly though- you write beautifully and your aus are a joy to read. i hope you like it and i hope i can live up to your standards. merry christmas, and happy late 5mo kickwarriorversary  
> xoxo

Keith cranked the volume on the speaker, resentment and whiskey running sluggishly in his veins. _Fuck._ He was _drunk_ drunk, and not the fun kind- not wild and carefree, electricity prickling the surface of glistening skin: no, Keith was _upsettingly_ drunk, bitter and careless, slurring every thought and word together in one big pot of overly emotional stew. _Merry Christmas indeed_ , he thought bitterly.

 

**_Last Christmas, I gave you my heart_ **

**_But the very next day, you gave it away_ **

 

Resting his head on the counter, the former paladin squinted at the winking lights Shiro had forced him to hang outside his window. They created a dancing path in his vision that trailed into the house, resting on the short pine tree in the corner of his small Garrison housing unit. It was lit with a cheerful holiday glow, creating an ironic contrast to the brutal fog that clouded Keith’s mind, he thought. The drunk boy let the pain of the last 4 years roll over him like a crashing wave- _an analogy Lance would’ve loved-_

 

**_This year, to save me from tears,_ **

**_I’ll give it to someone special_ **

 

Keith is sitting at a table surrounded by the people he learned to call his family. They’re all laughing, talking, celebrating Allura. This day was always hard, for everyone, but for some reason, this year was especially difficult. The blue Altean marks glint harshly against the warm brown of Lance’s skin. They have a strange shimmer to them that reminds Keith of the way his own scar is pulled tight over his right cheek. He did his best to help him through it- Keith knew what it was like to lose someone. They grew close over that year, as Lance desperately tried to heal and Keith tried to help him. _Not close like he wanted though-_ It’s a wonder that two, tiny, triangles of sky could be a reminder of so much pain, of the loss that Lance faced- _and, in a way, the loss that Keith did too-_

 

**_Once bitten, and twice shy,_ **

**_I keep my distance, but you still catch my eye_ **

 

Keith is stepping onto a Galra cruiser- an old tank of a spacecraft that Krolia decided to take to Kolivan somewhere out in the universe. He’s watching everyone wave their goodbyes- Hunk and Shiro, of course, are both crying, Pidge is stifling back tears and giving him two thumbs up, from Coran he receives a small salute and a cry of “Good luck, Number Four!” and Lance… Lance just looks uncomfortable. His smile is painted on, and hurt shines behind his eyes. He looks on edge- like he’s holding something back. Just before the bay door closes all the way, Lance breaks into a sprint. He’s bolting towards the door, scrambling to reach it before it seals shut.

“Hold the door!” Keith cries out, just as Lance jams a hand into the crack and struggles to wrench it open. He climbs in the ship, panting. Keith opens his mouth to shoot a question at the boy but Lance, heaving, raises a finger in delay.

“I, uh, hgh, wanted, to give you this,” the former red paladin choked out, slowly straightening to his full height and extending his hand towards Keith. “So I know you’ll come back to me. T-to all of us, really!” The last sentence tumbled out in a rush, just like the object being shoved into Keith’s gloved hands. The red bayard shined a stark white under the radioactive purple glow of the Galra tech. Keith’s voice lodged in his throat as Lance rambled on, “Listen, it-it belonged to you first anyway, and I figured I have no use for it now, and I couldn’t really think of anything else to give you. I know it’s all kind of stupid, but I um, I thought about maybe my-”

“Lance.” Keith’s voice caught on his name. He bit his lip to stop the trembling. _Mr. Kogane if you cry on me now so help me fucking God-_

“Huh?”

He took a deep, shaking breath in. “I’m coming back. I don’t know when, or how, but I’ll come back. I promise you.” He grabbed Lance’s hand resting on the bayard and smiled at him, almost bashfully. The shock that was painted on Lance’s face slowly turned to a wide, soft grin. He was illuminated by the ultraviolet light from the cruiser, and Keith thought he had never looked so alive, so bright, so _Lance_ . _Later, looking back, his treacherous brain would compare it to a soft, post-battle moment on the castleship, a half-conscious Lance mumbling words Keith would never forget-_

 

**_Tell me baby, do you recognize me?_ **

**_Well, it’s been a year, it doesn’t surprise me_ **

 

_“Maybe you should’ve just stayed away.”_

_“...So I think he’s like, the future.”_

_“Roger that, team leader.”_

Keith is standing on the porch of a small, homely barn in the middle of nowhere. Flowers roll over hills as far as the eye can see. His anxiety is pooling beneath his skin, creating a deadly cocktail out of nerves and old memories. After 3 years of humanitarian work, he’s seen some of the worst that the universe has to offer but somehow standing at the McClain’s door is the most terrifying thing he’s done. As he awaits a response to his knock, Keith scanned the horizon. The farm truly was a sight to see, all magenta and green and blue- bright colors that were a welcome change from dark and dirty slums of nations overrun by the former Galra empire. He realized with a start that he hadn’t even made a stop to see Shiro first- his heart was selfish. If anyone could understand that, it would have to be his brother.

“Hello…?” A tentative voice, overrun with a thick, Cuban accent sent ripples through the puddle of Keith’s thoughts.

“O-oh, uh, hi Mrs McClain, it’s Keith. Kogane? I was a paladin of Voltron with your son. I uh, I was lo-” Keith is cut off by a small gasp and a wry grin from the woman standing at the door.

“ _The_ Keith Kogane? What brings you here?” Her voice was warm and inviting, but mischief glinted behind her eyes- they were so bright, so blue, so much like Lance’s. _She knew something he didn’t, something he didn’t dare ask, let alone wish for-_

“Right, um. I was looking for Lance. I thought he’d be here? Or is he out making deliveries or something? I-I heard he’s started to deliver flowers. Juniberry is a very potent medicine, right? I uh-”

“Oh, pobrecito, you just missed him. Leandro _is_ out making delivery runs. Pero, when he gets back I’ll be sure to let him know you were here, verdad?” Her face fell, but the warmth never faded. She was kind and good to her core, Keith knew. He knew she was telling the truth when she made her promise.

“Oh. Oh, um, okay. I uh. Do you happen, um, do you happen to know where he is? Where is he delivering to?” Keith’s hands shook, and he fidgeted with a wrinkle in the thumb of his glove.

“Mijo, that boy is halfway across the galaxy. Lo siento. I swear to you, I’ll let him know you were here, verdad?” She smiled once more, and Keith nodded, returning the smile but feeling numb. He said goodbye and wandered back over to the small, hopper ship he had taken from Krolia’s newest cruiser. Sinking into the pilot’s seat, he felt his heart fall to his stomach. His eyes slid over to the red bayard in the passenger seat. _Guess it’s going to have to wait._ Keith started up the spacecraft and set coordinates to see his brother. Sighing, he said goodbye to the flowers and the color and the light of the Cuban sea as he rose higher and higher into the air. _But how much longer could he wait? Keith waited days, weeks,_ years _for him. He waited through space battles and near death experiences and the worst, most terrible heartbreak in the history of man and yet-_

_He’d do it all again._

_Just for him._

_Just for-_

“LAAAST CHRISTMAS, I GAVE YOU MY HEART,” Keith’s head shot up from the counter, a pounding headache working its way into his veins. _How much did he fucking drink?_ “BUT THE VERY NEXT DAY, YOU GAVE IT AWAY!” He stood up from his spot at the kitchen counter and spun once, relishing the drunken, delirious joy he felt in his bones. “THIIIS YEAR, TO SAVE ME FROM TEARS, ILL GIVE IT TO SOMEONE SPECIIALLLL” Keith yelled at the top of his lungs, pointing at a vague space in the room.

“LAA-” His singing was cut short by a sharp knock at the door. Letting out a deep groan, he turned the volume down on the speaker on the counter. Making his way to the door, the boy started whining to the empty air.

“Shiro, I already _told_ you, I don’t want to fucking watch you drool over your husband for Christmas, just let me be lonel- _oh_.” Keith stopped short as he opened his front door.

There, silhouetted by the glow of holiday lights, snow freckling his dark, curly hair, upturned nose pink and frostbitten, stood Lance McClain- a large bouquet of poinsettias and juniberry flowers in one hand, and a small, compact Tupperware in the other. His grey winter coat was pulled up to his chin, a blue and red scarf wrapped tight around his neck. Dark, thick jeans lead to black and charcoal snowboots, and warm, purple mittens clasped his gifts.

His face was shocked, slightly amused, and the best sight for sore eyes that Keith had ever seen.

 _I missed you. Life sucked without you. I fucking hate being without you. I have your bayard. Merry Christmas. I love you._ Keith wanted to say.

But instead, he looked Lance dead in the eyes and slurred: “Is your scarf supposed to be us or something?”

Keith could’ve died right there.

“Uh, Merry Christmas to you too, mullet. It’s been a while.” Lance let out a huff of laughter and smiled that fucking crooked smile back at Keith’s face. _Shit. SHIT._ “You been drinking?”

Keith flushed bright red and stared at the floor. “Maybe.”

Lance laughed again, full and glowing and Keith thought, deliriously, that maybe this is what they meant when they said the Grinch’s heart grew 3 sizes. “4 years of no face to face contact. And I come to find you _drinking_ . The Keith I know would _die_ before turning to alcohol. This must be serious.” He smiled again, and Keith smiled back. The moment stretched out for a second too long before a thought bubbled up to the surface of Keith’s brain.

“Lance… why are you here?”

The taller boy’s face dropped and his face ran red. “O-oh! Right uh, yknow, it’s Christmas! And Mamá said you dropped by in August, but I didn’t really get home until November, and we’ve been so busy with the farm and all and I just kind of figured that uh,

“Lance.”

I’d stop by, because, um, I know how you are with big crowds so I kinda thought you wouldn’t be at Shiro’s, and everyone else is all scattered, even if the Holt’s are doing Christmas together, but I _knew_ you wouldn’t be there, and I-”

“ _Lance._ ”

“ _Right,_ sorry.” Lance held out the bouquet to Keith, delicate hands cradling the mix of flowers as he passed it like a holy item through the doorway. “Mamá and Vero arranged them for you. Vero thought you might like poinsettias, ‘for some holiday cheer’, she said.” Lance sounded oddly upset talking about Veronica. Keith brushed it off, making a mental note to ask about it later.

“As for the tupperware, Mamá insisted I bring you arroz con leche. It’s um, it’s basically Cuban rice pudding. Abuelita makes it every Christmas.” He handed Keith the still-warm container and smiled half-heartedly. He opened his mouth to say something, but it seemed he thought better. _Something was on his mind, something Keith didn’t dare hope for-_

“I-uh. Thank you, Lance. I really appreciate it.” Keith felt, through the mist of booze, himself tentatively reach out and place a hand on Lance’s arm. _What the FUCK was he DOING._ Lance started at the touch, but then, Keith could have sworn he leaned into it. He gazed at the boy bundled in snow clothes before him, and felt a deep, bittersweet ache in his bones. _Somehow, after all this time, he still saw the Garrison cadet who helped him up after a fight, the boy Keith blew off, the seat behind his in stats class. He saw the paladin of Voltron most deserving to fly Black, who never got the chance, he saw a jack of many trades and their- no_ his _sharpshooter. He saw a boy with insecurities marring his skin but courage in his blood, the warrior who laughed in the face of danger but couldn’t say hello to a pretty girl. He stared back at his right-hand man, the one person he’d rather spend the rest of his life with, someone he would fight tooth and nail to spend all eternity with- his_ stability. _He saw kindness, selflessness, humor, brevity, wit, bravery, loyalty and-_

“Uhm. I-is that ‘Last Christmas’?” Lance shifted uncomfortably on the doormat, and cleared his throat, breaking Keith’s quickly spiraling, very gay train of thought. His face was a pretty shade of red, and Keith’s brain couldn’t help but think about all the things he wished he could do to his mouth.

“YES.” Keith blurted out, breaking away from Lance and spinning to the speaker on the counter. “Uh. Would… would you like to come in?” He stammered, turning the volume up to a regular level.

Lance’s eyes widened. “Oh. Um, sure.” He stomped his snowy boots outside and tiptoed into the house. Wrenching his boots off, he gazed around the room, eyes resting on the Christmas tree. “Holiday spirit, huh?”

“Did Shiro make you do this?”

“Shiro made me do it.”

Their words tumbled out at the same time, overlapping and tripping over each other, and both boys stopped short in the kitchen.

Lance smiled again at Keith, a little incredulously. If Keith kept smiling, he was sure his face would crack down the middle. He shook his head with a grin and set the small container on the counter.

“So um, you like this song huh?” The blue-eyed boy sat cautiously on a stool at the counter, gazing around the room. He was tapping a foot along to the 80s synth that bobbed along with the song. _Keith couldn’t help but think he looked so right there, like he belonged in his house, his jacket on the coatrack, his navy sweater a swatch of night sky in the warm glow of the house. Like he was supposed to be here, like his home was with K-_

“Oh, uh yeah. It’s my favorite Christmas song. Shiro says its perfect for me-” He deepened his voice and mimed his brother “‘Of course you like a sad Christmas song. That’s so you Keith! Only you could make Christmas emo.’” Keith chuckled and grabbed a vase for the flowers. “What he doesn’t know, is that I just like it ‘cause it’s 80s. Gays and synth, yknow?”

Lance smirked. “Of course, dude. That’s why it’s mine too!”

Keith practically dropped the vase in his hands. “What.”

The visitor’s face drained of color, then flushed a dark, dramatic red all in an instant. “Fuck. Uh, yeah. Yknow, these past, uh, couple years have left me a lot, a lot to um, to think about. And I kinda. I kinda realized I might be bi. Yknow. Girls _and_ boys.” Lance fidgeted uncomfortably with some lint on his sleeve. “I um. I talked to Shiro about it too- I-I wanted to tell you! But you were gone, and I felt like maybe that wasn’t something you said over some shitty voice com.”

 _Maybe I died. Maybe I am fucking dead._ Keith thought deliriously. He felt like someone dropped a match in his mouth, and his blood was gasoline. He was giddy and drop dead shocked. He wanted to comfort Lance, to say something, to _confess_ , but what he said was: “Oh cool! Cool. Do you want some eggnog?”

_Keith Akira Kogane. Are you fucking kidding me._

Lance’s mouth dropped open, but then his shoulders relaxed. _Wait, did he say the right thing? Was that correct? Oh fucking Christ._  “O-oh. No, I’m um. I’m good.” He shifted in his seat, then piped up: “Actually, if you have coco I’d take that. I don’t really like eggnog. Dunno what it is.”

Keith’s nose scrunched up. “You don’t like _eggnog_? How?” He wandered over to the cabinet and pulled out a small, red, tin box of hot coco powder. He pulled a blue mug from the dishrack and poured milk into it.

“I don’t know! Something about all the… egg. Maybe it’s the weird bite of alcohol from a milky substance?? Honestly, Kogane, I couldn’t tell you. But I _do_ know that only _heathens_ drink eggnog.” Keith took the mug out of the microwave and slid it over to Lance. “So I’ll be sticking with chocolate, thank you very much.” He took a sip of the drink and sighed. “Damn, Keith. You do _not_ fuck around with your holiday drinks. This is great, thank you.”

“No problem.” Keith looked up from the sink and saw that Lance had accidentally given himself a choco-stache. For some unforsaken reason, it was the funniest goddamn thing Keith had ever seen in his entire life. He snorted, devolving into a full, real laughing attack.

“What? What did I do?!” Lance protested, blush creeping up around his neck.

“You.. have chocolate… all over your face…” He wheezed, and Lance slowly grinned.

“So drunk Keith thinks everything’s funny, huh?” He licked his upper lip. “Get it?”

“No.”

He tried again. “Now?”

“Still no.”

Lance huffed. “How do I keep missing it!”

Keith stifled another laugh and leaned in across the counter. “Here.” He licked a thumb and swiped it across Lance’s face, smiling softly. Lance’s expression mirrored his own.

Keith felt his heart start to race. He left his hand there, cradling Lance’s face. Time slowed to a near stop, and Keith’s drunken, heartsick brain whispered _lean in._

Lance leaned into Keith’s touch. Maybe it was his mind, but he could’ve sworn the other boy glanced down at his lips. _Oh fuck. Oh fucking hell. Was this real?_ Keith could see every freckle now, the soft, melted snowflakes that rested on his eyelashes, Lance’s ocean eyes in all their glory, the micro scars on his cheeks, from ill-fated battles and strewn grit. Keith’s eyes fluttered shut just as his other, forgotten hand slipped, and knocked over Lance’s half full cup of coco.

_FUCK. SHIT. ASS._

“Shit!” Lance cried out, laughing and bright red. “ _Shit_!” He was in hysterics now, and the disaster part of Keith’s brain remarked he had never looked so beautiful, so joyous.

“Oh _fuck_ I’m so sorry Lance, I didn’t mean to, I can make another cup I-”

“Nonono, you’re fine!” Lance scrambled for the paper towels by the sink and mopped up the coco. “I… I should get going anyways.” He sighed, a little sadly, and smiled again at Keith. “It… it was nice seeing you again, mullet. I’ll drop by another time, okay?”

“Okay.” As the adrenaline faded, the bittersweet ache settled again in Keith’s heart. _Who knew when he’d see Lance again. He’d have to wait another-_

“WAIT” Keith jumped up from wiping up coco off the counter. Lance had one foot out the door and was about to close it when he flinched at the yell. “I have something for you.”

He bolted from the kitchen and living room, down the hall, and into his bedroom. As he ran back out, Lance was standing on the porch again, on the second step. He was nearly outside the awning. Keith stepped out into the cold night air, thrusting his hands towards the other boy.

“I… I promised I’d come back, didn’t I?” He smiled crookedly and dropped the red bayard into Lance’s hands. “I swore… I’m home.”

Lance’s face went slack with shock. He slowly turned the bayard over in his hands and looked up at Keith. His nose scrunched up, face screwing up to stifle tears.

“You-...you’re home. Thank you, Keith.” His voice cracked with the words, and he tugged Keith into a tight, surprise hug. “I… I missed you, man.” He was smothered by Keith’s shoulder, but the sheer emotion was still painfully audible.

Keith, taken off guard by the hug, let his arms fall slack, before squeezing Lance tight in his arms. “I missed you too.”

Slowly disentangling, they split apart, but never fully disconnected. Keith gazed at Lance, lit by the warm porch light and the twinkling Christmas lights strung along his home.

Lance laughed again, tipping his head up. “Fuck, I promised myself I wouldn’t cry.” He stopped short, ending his sentence with a small “ _oh_ ”.

Keith chuckled, and followed Lance’s gaze to the edge of the awning right above them. There, edged with softly changing colors of light, was a tiny sprig of mistletoe.

_Takashi Shirogane. You insufferable fucking bastard._

“Oh. _Oh._ ” Both of them went pink, then deep maroon.

“Ha ha, it’s a stupid tradition!! You should get going!! Um, haha, uh-” Keith’s rambling was cut short by a soft, bashful giggle.

“Shut up, samurai.”

Lance leaned in close, and Keith’s brain short-circuited.

_So this is what it’s like._

_Kissing Lance is like running in the rain. Ice cold and burning hot and a million feelings all at once, free, chained, love and pain and everything you’ve ever wanted in that moment._

_Kissing Lance is like successfully executing a battle plan, that thrill in your goddamn bones that echoes throughout your body, running a chill up your spine and a fierceness in your soul._

_Kissing Lance is like receiving a gift you never knew you needed, a handmade surprise interweaved with love, still warm from shaking hands crafting you a present of the stars._

_Kissing Lance is kind,_

_Kissing Lance is selfless,_

_Kissing Lance is brave,_

_Kissing Lance is-_

When they broke apart, they never strayed too far.

In the end, Lance never really left.

In the end, Keith could never leave again.

In the end, it was almost like they came home.

* * *

[twitter](https://twitter.com/kIancevibe)

 


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